


Conflicted Hearts

by scxrcrxw



Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Bilingual Character(s), F/M, Implied Relationship, Jealous John, John john john, Sweet John, implied racism, longing john, some sweet moments?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scxrcrxw/pseuds/scxrcrxw
Summary: belén cortes and john marston have been tiptoeing around their growing feelings for a while now. now add in a fiance, a job and some conflicting feelings  | started off as small jealousy prompt turned into 12 pages of hell





	Conflicted Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written a bilingual character. I did as much research as I could on how to write one. It may not be the best, but I'm still learning! I used www.spanishdict.com/translate for most translations and would suggest using it if you need to translate some of the stuff written ^.^

It’s not unusual for Matías to send her in alone. Being the only woman of the gang gave her more leeway, able to get things the others can’t. Naturally, this meant using her looks. ‘ _Ain’t nothing more deceitful than a pretty woman,’_ Caeser would tease. He’s right, always is. Men don’t blink twice when a woman is in the room. 

Belén gazes over the sea of people. Her eyes linger on a few people, but nothing holds her attention for long. She bites the inside of her cheek and glances at the man she’s with. William Bass, son of Arnold Bass who’s a prominent man in the watch making business alongside his wife Eliza. He’s handsome with a strong jawline, brown curls and green eyes. Any normal girl would be delighted to stand by him, but her thoughts are anywhere but him. 

“You alright?” His voice, deep and thin, breaks her from her thoughts. She hides them behind a smile, letting out a graceful laugh and shakes her head. 

“I’m not used to being around so many people,” She replies, gesturing vaguely towards the crowd. 

“We can leave, if you’d like?” He suggests. 

“I’m fine, William. Really.” Her reassurance does little, but William smiles back. 

“If it gets too much, just say the word.” The sincerity and genuine concern in his tone throws her off. She manages a curt nod and grabs his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. She hopes that is enough for him to drop it. Thankfully, he does. 

The rest of the party moves by quickly. William introduces Belén to as many people as he can. They’re all pleasant, but some fail at hiding their distaste when they greet her. She ignores it, giving bright smiles and pretends to show interest in them. By the time the party comes to an end, she has a few ideas for future targets. 

William is kind enough to walk her out, holding her hand as they go. He talks about potential outings, mentioning a dinner date with his parents this Saturday. Belén perks up at that as the wheels in her head begin turning. This is her in. She keeps her mouth shut, only giving an affirmative nod here and there. She needs to play this right. Be the silent, agreeable girl. Once they get to her stagecoach, Belén stops and turns to him. 

“I’ve had a lovely night,” She says and leans up to kiss his cheek, “Thank you.” 

“I know we’ve only known each other for a short while-” He brushes strands of black behind her ear before placing his hand on her cheek- “but I’ve greatly enjoyed our time together, Annabel.” 

“As have I.” It’s not a lie. Belén realizes it as she says it. 

William leans forward, pressing his lips against hers. It’s a quick, gentle movement that when he pulls back, it takes her a moment to grasp what he’d done. She stares back at him in surprise. It’s not the first time she’s been kiss, but it’s the first time it wasn’t so … starved. 

“Miss Casanova,” Antonio calls out, sitting atop the bench of the stagecoach, “We should get going.” 

“Oh, yes.” She shakes away her feelings and takes a step away from William. “I should go, before it gets too late.” 

“Of course,” He waves her off, “Wouldn’t want your father to worry.” William helps her into the stagecoach, softly closing the door behind her. “I’ll see Saturday, then.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” She replies, giving him a bright smile. 

Antonio ushers the horses to go and Belén is left to watch William become a silhouette behind them. She breathes in deeply, relaxing into the plush seating as tonight’s nerves roll off her. They stop outside the local saloon and two new passengers get in; Matías and Caesar. The two men take the seat across from her, both stinking of alcohol and smoke. 

“¿Tuviste una noche divertida, pequeña?” Caeser teases lightly, lips pulling back into a smirk and Belén rolls her eyes in return. 

Matías chuckles at the exchange. “Now, let the girl relax a little, will you?” He turns his attention to her, raising a brow at her sour expression. “You okay, pequeña?” 

“Yeah, just tired of wearing these damn things,” She gestures to her choice of clothing, a fashionable gown, and sighs. 

“Did the gringo give you anything?” Caeser asks. 

“Saturday,” She replies, “He’s invited me over for dinner, get to meet his folks.” 

“Great!” Matías grins widely, clapping his hands as mischief pools in his eyes. “It’ll give you the perfect opportunity to scope out the area. Remember, stick-” 

“Stick to being oblivious and American?” Belén gives a soft snort. “I know how to play a man, tío.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just try and not get yourself caught, alright?” He says it playfully, but she notices the concern in his voice. 

“I will.” 

* 

Saturday rolls around too soon for Belén. She spent the week looking for the right gown, something she’s strayed from doing before, and listening to Mitch talk about his days working for the upper class. It’s his way of helping, but most of what he said went straight through her. The only thing she can really think is finishing this job in one piece. 

On the other side of camp, the boys stand around the stagecoach. Mitch is securing the horses, making sure they’re ready to go. Caeser is leaning against the side of the stagecoach, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he impatiently blows the smoke. Matías stands in front of him, helping Antonio tie his tie and smooth out his suit. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Antonio asks uneasily. 

“Coño,” Caeser snickers and Antonio shoots him a glare. 

“It’ll be fine,” Matías replies, “Belén knows what she’s doing.” 

“But-” 

“That’s enough.” Antonio shrinks at his tone of voice and Matías sighs. He places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. “She’s tough, tougher than all of us combined. Just do your job and everything will be fine.” 

“Matías is right.” Sebastián speaks up, tiredly scratching the back of his head as dodders his way to the group. “She’s like her padre, always so stubborn. Just as strong, too.” 

“What's taking her so long, anyway?” Caeser flicks his cigarette aside, pushing away from the stagecoach. He places his hands around his mouth and yells, “¡Si no apresura y consigue su culo aquí fuera, Antonio tomará su lugar! Incluso usará ese bonito vestido tuyo!” 

Sebastián chuckles at that while Matías simply rolls his eyes and steps away from Antonio. “There,” He says, giving the young boy a grin, “Good to go.” 

After another second of waiting, and Caeser yelling for Belén to hurry up, the girl emerges from her tent. Her hair is up as her normal raven curls hang loosely around her face. She mutters profanities under her breath as she tugs the hem of her dress up and makes her way over. She notices the stares, a mixture of amusement and surprise, but she ignores both and opens the door to the stagecoach. 

“We’re going to be late,” She says and pulls herself in. 

The boys regain their senses and Matías goes through tonight’s plan once again. Antonio would act as Belén’s driver, being able to stay on the property until she’s able to leave as Caeser and Mitch stake out the area. As they do that, Matías and Sebastián while stay back to watch camp. It’s simple, nothing extravagant and mostly recon, but even Belén feels uneasy about it. 

The ride to William’s estate is slow, boring and anxiety inducing. Belén tries her best to distract herself by watching the scenery go by, but with every bump in the road her mind drifts back to that kiss. He showed so much care for her. The soft murmurs, the sweet nothings, the care and the delicacies. Somewhere inside her longs for more, but not from him. 

“Dios mío, ¿qué estoy haciendo?” She mutters, hiding her head in her hands. 

Her breathing hitches and she can feel tears begin to brim her eyes. She tries to deny it as guilt, telling herself that she feels bad for lying to him. But that doesn’t feel right. Belén refuses to admit what it is and instead shoves it back into the pit of her stomach. She wipes away the few tears that managed to escape and sits up straight. This isn’t the time to cry. 

They arrive at the estate as the sun begins to set. It’s a large mansion, a home that could fit more than a three-person family. Guards align at the entrance. They stop Antonio, ask for his business only for Belén to introduce herself. When they hear her name – Annabel Casanova – they usher them in quickly. As they drive up the dirt road, she notes the few other guards in the area and the uncertainty from earlier makes a comeback. 

When Antonio stops at the steps, the front door two door entrance opens. William steps out followed by his parents, Arnold and Eliza. He opens her door and gives his hand for her to take, which she does, and helps her out. She takes a second to look over the property, appreciating how simple yet elegant it all looks. 

“You look lovely,” William comments, giving her a genuine smile as he leads her up the steps. She doesn’t have a chance to thank him as he stops in front of his parents. “Father, mother, I’d like you to meet Miss Annabel Casanova.” 

“Hello,” Belén greets with a small curtesy, “It’s a pleasure.” 

“Our son has sad an awful lot about you,” Arnold replies as he takes her in, “But he didn’t mention you were … _foreign_.” 

“Arnold!” Eliza scolds, something that surprises Belén, as she shoots him a look before giving her a smile. “My husband grew up inclusive. I, on the other hand, have had the opportunity to meet and befriend many.” 

“Yes, well, not many are accepting.” It’s supposed to be a lighthearted statement, but the bitterness in her tone is all too clear. 

William clears his throat, gaining their attention. “Shall we continue this inside?” He suggests, a slight nervousness to his tone. 

The four head in, passing by a few servants on the way, and go to the dining room. It’s already set, each glass full of an expensive wine. Belén isn’t used to this setting; the workers, the fine dining and nice clothing. She tries to play it cool, pretending to belong as William guides her around the table and pulls out a chair for her. She sits and he takes the spot on her right with his father at the head of the table and his mother across from him. 

“William says your father is in the trading business,” Eliza speaks with clear interest, “What exactly does he trade?” 

“Sugar.” 

An impressed look crosses Arnold’s face. “He must be quite the business man,” He comments, taking a sip of his wine. 

“He has a way with words,” She replies, smiling fondly as her mind drifts to Matías. 

The conversation drifts into business politics, mostly Arnold asking questions about her father’s work. He mentions storing his watches at the edge of town and how he’s planning to move a few dozen on Thursday but doesn’t know the best way to do it. Belén vaguely suggests using a wagon, keep it discreet like her father does it. It all comes naturally to her. She has rehearsed this story more than enough times that she could easily fall into the lie herself. By the time food comes around, Belén finds herself relaxing into her role. 

* 

“Before we eat, there’s something I’d like to say.” William takes his glass of wine and stands from the table. All eyes are on him as he turns to Belén with a serious look. Her heart stops, unsure of what’s happening as he smiles fondly. “For most of my life, I have done things by the book. Followed my father’s words, done as I was told and never thought differently. And then I met you, my sweet Annabel, and I realized that there’s more to life than playing it safe. 

This night is about family, which is why I invited you. I know I cannot give you everything, but I can give you a comfortable and cherished life. I can love you for eternity. And I know it may seem too soon, but I would be a fool if I didn’t ask for your hand in marriage.” 

William brings a box out from his vest’s pocket and kneels in front of her as he opens it, revealing a diamond ring. Eliza is watching with hopeful eyes while Arnold’s shine with uncertainty. _He planned this,_ Belén realizes. A proposal masked as a simple dinner date. Her mouth runs dry as every bone in her body urges her to run. Then she catches sight of the painting on the wall, the one that looms over the dining room, of Arnold holding a pocket watch. She knows then what she needs to do. 

“Yes.” It comes out soft, but that doesn’t matter. William scoops her into his arms, gives her another kiss as his mom calls for more wine. She feigns excitement, giggling and trying to sell a girl who’s in love, but it’s hard. Her heart is anywhere but on her sleeve. Her mind is back to something else, someone else and she wonders how she’s going to get out of this one. 

* 

Matías isn’t happy when Belén tells him the news and shows off her engagement ring. His lips are pursed, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He tries to hide his distain, saying the engagement could help them with their job. It doesn’t work. Caesar, on the other hand, thinks it’s the best thing to ever happen to them. 

“El pequeña Belén Cortes se va a casar. ¿Quién hubiera pensado?” He laughs, struggling to stay up right. 

Sebastián rolls his eyes and grabs his arm. “Let’s give the girl room to breathe, amigo.” He tries to pull him away, but Caeser only laughs louder. 

“Why is it so funny?” Belén snaps defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“No, no, don’t get me wrong,” Caeser shakes his head, wiping away his tears, “I’m happy for you, pequeña, but marriage ain’t for us. You should know that better than any of us.” 

That comment alone makes the men go silent. A look of regret masks his features, but the damage is done. She knows what he means; those like us either end up dead or our loved ones do. You can’t build a marriage on that. She’s seen it play out firsthand. This time when Sebastián tries pulling Caeser away, it works and the two head to the other end of camp by Antonio. 

“He ain’t mean it like that,” Mitch tries, but Belén shakes him off. 

“He’s right,” She replies, “No point in arguing with him.” 

“Other than your engagement, did you get anything useful out of folks?” Matías asks, switching the subject for her sake. 

“He mentioned moving around a whole bunch of boxes this Thursday, but-” 

“The guards.” He finishes with a frown. “Not sure how we’ll deal with them.” 

“We could always ask for help?” Mitch suggests. “Dutch could send a man or two over, give us more hands.” 

“We don’t need them,” Belén argues, voice higher than normal. 

“We can’t do it with just the six of us,” Matías gives her a look, “Not when Antonio refuses to get his hands dirty and Sebastián’s leg is still healing.” 

“I’ll get a letter out to them tomorrow,” Mitch says, “Maybe Dutch will send Arthur, he seems more than capable of a job like this.” 

“Good, good.” He waves Mitch off and once he’s gone, her turns back to Belén with narrowed eyes. “Out of all the stupid shit you could’ve pulled, you went and got engaged.” 

“I did as you told,” She counters. 

“I told you not to get caught.” 

“Well, this is me not getting caught.” 

* 

Belén spends the day going through her father’s old journal. Caeser’s comment from the other night left her reeling, her grief hitting her differently this time. She wonders how he would’ve reacted to her engagement, even if it is under false pretenses. The thought of telling her mother crosses her mind, but by this time tomorrow the job would be over and she’d go back to being alone. No reason to get her mother’s hopes up now. 

“Pequeña, you doin’ alright in there?” Sebastián’s voice sounds from outside her tent. When she looks up, she can see his outline through the thin material. She closes the journal, tossing it atop her chest. 

“I’m fine,” She replies, watching him shift from one leg to the next. 

“If you say so…” He trails off, clearly unconvinced but not wanting to push it. “Dutch’s boys are here. Matías is makin’ dinner, if you’d like to help him out while they settle in.” 

Belén makes a sound of compliance and waits until he’s gone to get out of bed. She runs a hand through her already messy hair, tugging at the curls in tired frustration. Her eyes flicker to her mirror, nose crinkling at the sight of her. She doesn’t look bad, but she doesn’t look like herself either. There’s no excess dirt covering her cheeks, no split lip or bruises anywhere in sight. She looks decent, clean. She hates it. 

She sighs and takes a moment to fully button her shirt before heading out. She can hear voices from the other end of camp, but the tents in front of her cover her from their view. She stands there for a moment, hoping to distinguish whose voice is who, but when nothing comes from it, she moves and goes to Matías. 

Matías is a bit away from the group, stirring a pot of stew as he hums an unfamiliar tune. His head picks up when she nears, and a smile fills his lips. “Ah, I was wondering when you’d join the world of the living.” 

“Why, you miss me?” She shoots back with a playful grin. 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time alone,” His smile falters slightly, “I worry, you know.” 

“Tío, you always worry.” She gives him a pointed look, grabbing the few bowls they had and hands them to him. 

He gives her a smaller smile. “It’s hard not to.” 

The two get to work. While Matías fills the bowls with stew, Belén takes them and sets them around the table. They make small talk, both avoiding the topic of tomorrow and the ring on her finger. He’s calmed down since Saturday, but she can tell he’s still irked by it. The others join them just as they finish, piling around the table as she moves to the container holding the beer. 

“Aye, pequeña, we were just talkin’ about your engagement,” Caeser remarks snidely. 

“Dios, déme fuerza,” She mutters, grabbing a few bottles and turns around. She gives Caeser an exasperated look, “What about it?” 

“Just that Antonio here-” He gestures to Antonio who shrinks in his seat- “says you seemed a bit _too_ happy ‘bout it.” 

“Never thought you were the type to get married, Cortes.” The new voice catches her off guard. Her eyes widen, cheeks heating as she notices their guests. Arthur’s staring right back at her with amusement. Beside him is John who’s watching the exchange with an unreadable look. Instinctively, Belén hides the hand baring the ring. 

“It’s just a job, Morgan.” Her voice comes out thin, firm as if trying to reassure somoene. 

Once the beers are handed out, Belén takes a seat beside Caeser. He raises a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips. She ignores him, bowing her head as Matías stands to give thanks. It’s quick and once he’s done, the table erupts into something lighthearted. A few laughs, a few jeers with a sense of home. 

“Tu muchacho del amante no parece tan feliz,” Caeser murmurs, nudging Belén with a small chuckle. She steals a glance at John, noticing he’s barely touched his food and his eyes are focused on something in the distance. 

“¿Qué le dijiste?” She gives Caeser a glare. 

“Don’t put this on me, pequeña.” He leans back, rolling his eyes. “You’re the one who didn’t tell him.” 

Belén steal another look at John as a frown tugs at her lips. “It’s not like we’re together,” She argues, looking down at her half-empty plate, “No reason to make things complicated.” 

Her hunger dissipates. Pushing her plate aside, she stands from the table as she mutters a goodbye and heads back to her tent. Some of the boys watch her leave with concern, but none stop her. Not too long after, John excuses himself, saying he’s going to catch an early night’s sleep for tomorrow. 

Belén’s tent is the smallest of the bunch, situated at the very back for privacy. Inside is surprisingly cozy with a cot, a chest, a small table and a chair. There’re a few other things like a mirror, her father’s journal, her guns and some worn books. Although it isn’t much, it’s what she has. 

She sighs, stretching her arms as she kicks off her shoes. She isn’t sure how she’s going to get through tomorrow, not with John hanging around. She’s happy to see him, sure, but not under these circumstances. Seeing him now makes her feel like she’s doing something wrong. Suddenly, the tent flap opens as someone barges in. Belén is startled at first, reaching for her gun only to stop when she realizes who it is. John stands at the entrance, watching her with a look she can’t describe. She silently curses her luck and sighs. 

“I’m not up for … whatever it is you want, Marston.” Her voice is tired, uneven as she takes him in. His hair is longer than it was when she last saw him, rests just below his ears in greasy shambles. He’s grown a bit of facial hair, mostly peach fuzz as well as clear bags under his eyes. It worries her. 

“You ain’t think to tell me you got engaged?” She’s surprised by the sudden hostility in his voice and takes a step back in retaliation. “Last letter you wrote you said you were doing a job. You ain’t mentioned it involved sleepin’ with a man.” 

“You need to calm down,” She places her hands in front of her, eyes widening. “I’m not sleeping with him. It’s just a job, John.” 

He takes a step forward and his chest connects with her hands. He looks down at her with a furrowed brow. “Then why ain’t you tell me?” He asks, this time his voice is low, soft. 

She peers into his brown eyes as her fingers wrap around his shirt, grasping the material loosely. “I…” Her words die in her throat, unable to give a sound answer. They’ve written a few times during this giving her multiple chances to tell him, but she didn’t. She neglected it. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she knows why she did. 

Knowing he isn’t going to get a straight answer, he takes a step back forcing Belén to let go. “You know what? It don’t matter.” She wants to argue, say it does but all she can manage is a nod. He shakes his head, sighing. She watches him retreat out of her tent with a heavy heart. 

* 

Belén struggles to sleep that night. Her dreams are full of uncertainty, fear of tomorrow and what could happen. Sebastián shakes her awake the next day, urging her to get dressed and meet them by the stagecoach. With a small groan, she pushes herself out of bed and shuffles through the gowns she’s bought in the last month. She settles on a simpler one, hoping it’d be good for a quick escape. 

After she’s dressed and puts her hair up, she heads outside. Everyone else is already up, moving around the camp as they gather their things. She walks briskly past the other’s tents as her eyes fall on the stagecoach. Matías stands in front of Arthur and John, the latter of the two leans against the ride with his arms crossed. Sucking in a deep breath, Belén makes her way to them. 

“Mornin’ fellas,” She greets, keeping her tone light and sweet. 

John perks up at the sound of her voice, pushing off the stagecoach as he looks over at her. He’s taken back when he notices what she’s wearing. He swallows thickly, eyes trailing across her frame. The dress fits her perfectly, showing off the curves she has as it emphasizes on her chest. His eyes find her face, noticing that her hair is up with a few loose curls here and there. It’s the first time he’s seen her face so clearly. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Arthur comments, successfully breaking John out of his trance, “Excited to see your fiancé?” 

Belén rolls her eyes. “I get enough of that shit from Caeser, Morgan.” 

Arthur snorts in reply and directs his attention to the stagecoach. “How’d you get this thing, anyway?” He bangs the side with his hand. “Ain’t they expensive?” 

“Probably stole ‘em,” John says, voice strained. 

“Marston’s right, we got them off an old man just outside of town.” She smirks, remembering the look on the man’s face when she drew her pistol. “Didn’t like having a gun pointed at his face.” 

Arthur chuckles lightly at that. “You sure do have a way with men, Cortes.” 

“Only when I want somethin’ from them,” She sends him a wink before turning to Matías, “We should get going.” 

Cupping his hand around his mouth, Matías yells for Mitch and Caeser. Not a moment after, they come into view. Caeser already has a cigarette lit, breathing in the smoke with glimmering eyes while Mitch rummages through his leather pouch. They’re both dressed, bandana’s hanging from their necks and restocked bandoliers hanging around their frames. Once they reach them, Matías clears his throat and gestures for everyone to listen. 

“Let’s go over the plan one last time,” He says, eyes straying on Caeser momentarily. “Antonio and Sebastián will stay here, guard camp while we head out. Mitch will go first, make sure the roads are clear. John will take the stagecoach, act as Belén’s driver and take her to meet her fiancé. Arthur, Caeser and I will trail behind you two and once we get there, Bel-” 

Belén finishes for him. “I’ll head inside, cause a distraction and then you three will storm the place.” 

Matías nods at her words. “Everyone got it?” There’s an affirmative murmur and he sighs. “Good, let’s go.” 

Belén pulls herself into the stagecoach, letting out a small huff at having to do it herself. She gets comfortable, hoping to relax a bit before they get there. Mitch mounts his horse first, setting off towards town. John follows, urging the horses to move at a steady pace. Even with them sitting so far apart, unable to see or converse with each other, there’s a tense atmosphere that surrounds the stagecoach. 

* 

They stop in front of a medium sized building. There are a few men mewing around, carrying boxes to a wagon outside. Belén notices William instantly, standing at the entrance as he gives out orders. John opens her door and holds out his hand for her to take. She raises a brow but doesn’t question it as she lets he helps her out. They linger there for a moment, hands clasped together only to break apart as William calls out to her. 

“Annabel!” A boastful smile fills his lips, he turns to a man beside him and whispers something before he walks over. “You didn’t mention you would be stopping by.” 

“I didn’t realize I needed an excuse to see my fiancé,” Belén pulls away from John, meeting William halfway with a sweet smile. 

“No, no-” He embraces her, bringing her in close- “It was just a surprise, is all. A pleasant surprise at that.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hand rests against his chest as she stares into his eyes. 

William brushes his thumb against her cheek and she involuntarily leans into it. A loud _clank_ breaks them apart and when she looks over, the side of the door to the stagecoach is splintered and John is nursing his hand. He doesn’t meet her gaze, instead he focuses on his now bloody hand as her brow furrows. 

“Quite the driver you got there…” William clears his throat and her attention snaps back to him. “I’ll be done shortly and then we can grab an early lunch?” 

“That would be wonderful,” She replies, mustering up a small smile. He gives her a quick peck and leaves, going inside the building. 

Belén waits until he’s completely out of view to go back to John. Her first instinct is to grab his hand but stops herself from reaching out. Instead, she leans against the stagecoach beside the indent and waits for him to look at her. He doesn’t, finding anywhere but her more interesting. 

“What was that about?” She finally asks, nodding towards the splintered wood. 

“Nothin’.” He answers, voice gruff. 

“You nearly punched a hole through this thing,” She laughs, although there’s very little humor in it, “I don’t call that nothing.” His jaw clenches as he meets her gaze. It reminds of her how he looked last night, and the realization hits her. “Wait, are you jealous, Marston?” Surprise seeps through her voice as her eyes widen with a mixture of amusement and desire. 

“I ain’t jealous,” He huffs, averting his gaze as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Just don’t fancy seein’ men act that way ‘round a pretty woman.” 

“Aw, you think I’m pretty!” Belén teases as her heart pounds against her chest. 

“Oh, shut it.” He rolls his eyes, moving away from her before she can say more. “You better get goin’, cause that distraction ‘fore one of your boys gets impatient.” 

“Okay, okay,” She holds her hands up in mock surrender, inching away from the stagecoach, “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” 

John huffs in reply and she notes the vague red covering his cheeks. She walks away with a satisfied smile, making her way to the entrance that William had disappeared in. She pauses outside and ruffles the front of her dress. She stumbles inside, pretending to be shaken. No one tries to stop her as she searches for William. She finds him in the back talking to another man. 

“William,” She cries as she stumbles her way to him and both him and the man look at her. 

Concern paints his features, noticing she’s upset. “What’s wrong?” He asks, quickly making his way to her. 

“One of those men, he-” She breaks, sobs racking her body. He wraps his arms around her, soothing holding her against his chest. He tenses as her fingers grasp his vest tightly. 

“Which one?” His voice deepens with anger. 

It takes everything in her to not smirk as he helps her outside. She briefly glances over at John before pointing at one of the workers by the wagon. William tells her to stay put and she watches as he storms towards the man. He says something incoherent as the man shoots her a look. He shakes his head, holding his hands up but William isn't having it. He throws a punch, his fist connecting with the man's face. He holds his cheek and even from where she stands, Belén can see blood. 

The man then lunges at William, tackling him to the ground which catches the attention of the surrounding workers. Several rush towards them, trying to tear them apart only for it to turn into a full-on brawl. Now that the building is unattended, Belén whistles and turns back to head inside. She goes straight to the several boxes aligning the back. 

“Nice actin’,” John remarks as he makes his way to her followed by Arthur, “Bit dense, ain’t he.” 

“You have no idea,” She laughs, opening one of the boxes to reveal the watches, “Get as many as you can, boxes or watches it don’t matter. But we better hurry before they catch wind of us.” 

They work briskly with only the raging fight to fill the silence. John works closely behind her, reaching around her to grab watches and shove them anywhere he can. It feels natural working like this, their hands brushing every now and then as they try to avoid bumping into each other. If Arthur noticed, he didn’t say anything. The three finished up, each grabbing a box as Arthur directs them to the stagecoach unnoticed. 

Once the boxes are secured, John turns to Belén and helps her inside. It surprises her how easy the job was. How easily she fooled him, how they managed to take at least a third of their watches without being seen. She waits for the hitch; the moment when they’re caught but it doesn’t come. Arthur and John take to the front and before she knows it, they leave and William is left behind. 

* 

Later that night, they celebrate. Caeser forces Antonio to drink more than he can take and by the end of it, they’re both unable to think straight let alone stand straight. Mitch watches with amusement, sipping his beer as him and Arthur discuss potential future plans. Matías and Sebastián are in a heated debate, both arguing where to go next. And then there’s Belén and John. 

Belén sits by the fire, eyes focused on the engagement ring still on her finger. Something in her wouldn’t let her take it off. It reminds her of the one her mother wears, but nicer. She wonders how her felt when her father proposed. If maybe she’d ever feel it. The joy of being with the one you love forevermore. It’s a silly thought, but it still makes her heart sink. 

“You still wearin’ that thing?” John’s voice breaks her thoughts. She manages a shrug but doesn’t reply as he takes the seat next to her with a sigh. “You weren’t really thinkin’ bout marrin’ him, were ’ya?” 

She laughs lightly at that and shakes her head. “Not him, no.” 

“Then what’s with the sulkin’?” 

“Been thinking a lot. Never really thought ‘bout settling down-” she looks at him with a sad smile- “but for a moment I did. Even if it weren’t real.” 

There’s something foreign in the way John stares back at her. Flummoxed? Adoration? Knowing? A mixture of all three, he isn’t sure. It’s a way he’s never looked at her before. All those sleepless nights in the town’s they’d meet and this is the first time he sees her. The first time he realizes that he wants to see more. Not undressed and moaning his name, but right here. 

“I know it’s stupid, Marston,” She snaps, averting her gaze to her finger once again, “No reason to look at me like I’ve grown a whole new head.” 

“It ain’t stupid.” Her eyes snap back to his in surprise and he smiles. “Longin’ for somethin’ more ain’t stupid, Belén.” 

It’s in that moment they both know. Even if they don’t admit it, they know. And they hope the other knows it too. 


End file.
